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Hard Politics
Sanctuary Avenue The freshly paved Sanctuary Avenue is a broad strip extending directly out from the spaceport, lined by large buildings that eventually give way to smaller stores, the more personable ones extending on to Brightstar Boulevard. In the distance, the Stubtooth Mountains loom over the western horizon, scattered forests smudging the scenery in between with patches of dark green. A section of New Alhira's main thoroughfare has been blocked off to anything but foot traffic by Demarian Militia MPs, though it seems that the official presence of Demaria's finest ends there. At the far end of the street a small stage has been erected using the city's forested fringe as a backdrop. Right front and center stands a heavy and ornate podium draped with red and white dressings that continue along the stage's edge to complete the image of patriotic pageantry. The stage is filled by a handful of important looking Demarians sitting behind the stage and those dressed more conservatively who guard them. A small crowd has gathered in front of the stage, and those who have spent time in New Alhira recognize that most of them are better dressed than the average citizen. The interstellar press makes a token showing as well with a pair of INN holocameras aimed at the podium. Interspersed between them are a number of large Demarian males, all dressed in the same drab gray uniform sporting a black armband emblazoned with the blood red symbol of the Demaria First Party. There is a small contingent of Vanguard special forces soldiers here, though it's apparent that they're not assisting the Demarian MPs by their lack of any real gear. However, they're mixed in with the MPs, talking with some of them to the sidelines. Lucius watches a bit closer to the action, arms crossed over his chest. It seems that the rally is just in the process of getting started. The podium is occupied by an aging Demarian male dressed conservatively without any of the flair of his compatriots. He is best identified by the crimson tufts of fur over his burning golden eyes, though they are flecked with bits of gray. He speaks in sedate tones in Demarese, every now and then indicating a black Demarian seated behind him in a red coat. It's also clear that while the Vanguard might have a good rapport with the MPs, the Demarian males with the Demaria First armbands eye them suspiciously, and not at all discretely. The Demarian, a white thing who at first appears young until she turns and the gray hairs on her face become apparent, starts at Volgavian's touch. She blinks her green eyes at him, as if not sure what to make of the Vollistan. She's carrying a sign in Demarese which reads 'Sandwalker '08'. "That's Senator Lightseeker." She replies almost dumbly, pointing out the current speaker with the fiery brows. "And that's Senator Sandwalker." Her finger moves towards the black Demarian in the red coat seated on stage. "YEAH - FREEDOM! ... YEAH - STICK IT TO THE MAN!! ... YEAH - DOWN WITH TAXES!!! ... YEAH - SAVE THE SPACE WHALES!!! ... YEAH - SAY NO TO WAR!!!!" Rukais shouts, lost in the crowd and deciding it best to be noisy and incoherent then try and find out what's going on, "YEAH - FREE LOVE!!! Hey, free love right here!" he calls to one of the few human women nearby. To the side, in the front row of that rally, there is - perhaps - a familiar pair. The massive Longtooth - Stars - listens, head tilted, his arm through the fluffy orange-and-white female's to whom he's Bonded. There's a faint air of amusement around him, his tail flicking lightly, ears and whiskers forward - his gaze goes between Sandwalker and the speaker. Seriously. Just one of the crowd. Honestly - even if he's still head-and-shoulders above much of it. The Vanguard soldiers, probably sent here to train with the Militia, don't seem to mind the suspicious eyeing - or at least they don't take note of it. His arms still crossed, the tan beret wearing Sergeant Major continues to calmly watch. Aadzrian comes jogging out of the spaceport, dressed surprisingly nicely in an expensive suit, and promptly looking very confused at what's going on. He shrugs after a moment, dismissing his complete ignorance, and after searching the crowd starts pushing through it towards Stars. Volgavian nods to his translator. "Oooh. So..." his question is cut off as he hears Rukais hollering, and decides to try slipping over to the shipmate. "Should be careful about advertising that," he says to the human. "Never know who will respond." "...What on...? Swiftfoot asks nobody in particular, looking over her shoulder in Rukais' general direction, but not seeming to make the connection between him and what's being shouted. After a few moments, she simply snorts, flicks an ear, and turns back to watch the podium. "Hrh. Humans," she asides to Stars, in Demarese. A roar of applause comes up from the crowd as Senator Lightseeker concludes his remarks. He steps aside, applauding graciously as the Demarian in the red coat rises. As he addresses the podium it's easier to get a better look at him. His is very well groomed, black fur shining the twilight without a single hair out of place. He is marked by a pair of white stripes that cut vertically across his eyes like scars. "Thank you, Senator Lightseeker..." He begins, in terran standard. His own reply is a soft, purring growl - almost laughing, in the same language - "That /is/ why we enjoy hanging about them. They're unpredictable." Stars glances down to Swifty, giving the female a perfectly amused look. "Twenty creds says the phrase 'glorious future' shows up in this speech." He keeps it low enough not to carry, mind. Finding no luck in propositioning people on the busy street, Rukais attempts to move forwards, between the tall shaggy mass of walking carpets he darts. "S'cuse me, human with small feet here, woah - no thanks!" Ah, the scamp! Lucius's ice blue eyes shift from the underclasser Senator who's just spoken to the prospective nominee for the position of Demaria's head of state. Then he notices a few non-Demarians in the ranks of political supporters - mainly, Rukais. He narrows his eyes. "Heeey, Long-toot'," Aadzrian calls through the crowd, urgently but quietly enough to suggest he's trying to be polite. He elbows and shoves and slips his way through the crowd, determined. Volgavian shakes his head as Rukais slips away from him without notice, chuckling under his breath. He starts making his own way through the crowd, looking for a closer spot in a path that is slowly taking him closer to Longtooth and Aadzrian. The Demarians in the crowd don't seem to be all that interested in letting Rukais or Volgavian past, they're much more concerned with the figure who has just stepped up to the podium. But as the pair are gradually sidelined by the excited felinoids they might hear a note that's strangely discordant to the general party atmosphere, a low, tortured moan that issues from a bundle of sand colored rags just large enough to hide a full grown Demarian, slumped against a building. Swiftfoot eyes Stars sidewise and bares teeth in a sly smile. "You're on, but it has to be that -exact- phrase," she murmurs in reply, again in her native language. "No technicalities." As the opening remarks conclude and the Sandwalker takes the podium, her attention is directed there, the ginger female's ears perked forward attentively. Across from the Vanguard a group of the grey suited enforcers with the Demaria First Party's logo on their arms is gathering. They sneak glances at the assembled humans, though for the moment the line of Demarian Militia MPs serves to separate them. Lucius isn't stupid or unperceptive. He notices the 'enforcers', and immediately moves to the ranking officer in charged of the MP detachment. "Sir, think I should get my boys on the move? Don't want to be obtrusive, especially on a day like this." His query is left hanging. Volgavian slows as he hears the moan, turning slowly to see where it came from. Curiously, the Vollistan starts walking that way? "Hello?" he asks quietly. "Is someone hurt?" "You - woah!" Rukais, in his attempt to move towards the front a little too quickly, runs headlong into the back of a Demarian. Namely an eight foot black Demarian who'd probably struggle to feel the pilot thump into his back. You know - there are advantages to having whiskers, a good sense of smell - and enough experience to have read your history. And Stars? Stars nudges Swiftfoot - flicks a claw vaguely at the enforcers, as he notices them - it's subtle, hidden beneath turning to chuff a greeting at Aadz, offering a heavy paw that way. "We should have waited, prretty - " It's in terran, with a flash of teeth - "He'd have sat forrr frree." Whump. A brow is raised. The male glances back and down. "....carreful." You know, that may be an attempt at a friendly smile, all terran-like? But those are some pointy teeth, yo. From the podium, Senator Twinstripes Sandwalker begins his speech. “Thank you Senator Firebrow Lightseeker for your service to Demaria and for your gracious introduction. We are, all of us, inspired by the journey that you have taken to arrive here today. Senator Lightseeker, like all of our fellow Demarians, knows that this election is not about me and it is not about the character of President Longvision. It is, fundamentally, about one question. Senator Lightseeker stands with us today because this question transcends the circumstances of our old existence and speaks to us across the petty divisions that we have clung to for so long.” The bundle of rags shifts as Volgavian approaches it, but is otherwise unresponsive to him. The bare end of a ragged, mangy snout can be seen poking out of a fold that serves as his hood. The MP officer that Lucius addresses casts a careful eye back towards the gathering enforcers. "Perhaps that would be wise, sir. These nationalist types don't always take well to off-worlders..." His partner, another MP, shoots him a glance that almost seems offended. "Hallo I heared about t'is and I come for to support you and Silver-eye, sinse it is polity-cal and you are polity-cal," Aadzrian informs Stars all in a rush of breath, falling silent as soon as he's done so he can listen to the speech. His lips move along with it, the Timonae evidently trying to understand despite the somewhat complex diction. "Hrrr," Swiftfoot muses, a short nod given to Stars, and a greeting flick of her tail offered to Aadzrian. She looks back at Rukais, whiskers twitching uncertainly, then gives a slight shrug and again turns her attention to Twinstripes. "I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!" Rukais cries, in capitals, back to the Demarian. He's butt-first on the floor with his arms now protecting his most prized possession, his face. A few enforcers give Rukais sharp looks, but he's so close to the podium that causing a bigger scene might not look good... "Point taken, sir. I'll stay and watch though, if you don't mind." Lucius nods at the officer and takes one step away. He says into his comm, "All callsigns, this is gladius actual. Return to the ship immediately." In the background, each officer nods and replies into the comm in turn, turning around to head for the spaceport. "I.." The big felinoid blinks, and looks down at the cowering fellow. "Er. Hush." Quiet - "And you'rre not. Death doesn't terribly carre much, but you'd prrobably do betterrr starring it in the face than making a scene, don't you think? Come on then - stand up - and .. you may want to stop the yelling." Oddly enough, Sandwalker gets a glance, a flick of the tail - Stars seems... amused? Amused. That's a good word for it. Volgavian frowns, reaching out for the rags with one hand, and for the one inside it with his mind - a light touch to try and see what the creature is feeling. "Is alright," he says quietly. "Are not hurt, no?" Sandwalker continues his speech undisturbed by the shouts below him. He's fixed on his audience and just settling into rhetorical stride. "That question, my friends, is deceptively simple. What is Demaria? What is this place that we call home? The state of our situation, going back to the cataclysm which almost robbed us of our world, is such that we are reduced to the most basic questions about our existence. Once we can answer this question, a question that rests at the core of our own identity, we can begin to rebuild. I ask that you look around at this colony that we have so painstakingly constructed. Surely, you would say, we have rebuilt! We have streets, cafes, holoviewer stations and even a functioning spaceport. It is true that we have been remarkably successful in replacing things that we have lost." The figure in front of Volgavian moans plaintively. His mind is awash in pain and confusion, the mind of an injured child in an adult's body. He shudders at the touch, recoiling in on himself. The enforcers by Lucius reciprocate the action, dispersing back into the crowd... "T'is where he say but, righ'?" Aadzrian asks of Stars and Swiftfoot, his nose wrinkling. "T'is polity-cal stuff is no somet'ing I really under-stand." Nonetheless, the Timonae actually seems quite interested. "Oh." Rukais' arms fall to his sides limply and he pulls himself up, turning what seconds ago was a face of sheer agony and fear into a stubborn frown, "Well would you mind if I could just pop in front of you so I can /see/ something, then?" then, to top it off, he gives a polite smile. At least he's not shouting, now. Lucius returns to the MP officer's side. "Nothing wrong with a healthy dose of patriotism. Remember what planet I'm from sir." He grins. "Besides, we all have to rememeber where we're coming from and where we're going. Your people've been through a lot." Shutting up, he continues to watch the Senator, but also the crowd. Swiftfoot rubs behind one ear and eyes Rukais, then shuffles a step closer to Stars, leaving a bit of space for Ruk to squeeze past her if he should wish. "Just... carreful," she offers quietly to the human. She chuffs and looks to Aadzrian, shrugging and giving one of those toothy smiles. "Yourr guess is as good as mine. Volgavian frowns. "Is alright," he says softly. "Am getting help." He takes a step back from the injured party, looking for the nearest authority figure to report to. "No. It's definitely a 'but', my frreind - " Stars /does/ seem amused. "I just hope it's the 'but' I am expecting." He shifts with swifty, giving Rukais that much more space. "He's an interresting fellow." The speech continues, the fervor in Twinstripe's voice ratcheting up. “But I speak to a deeper reconstruction, a reconstruction that cannot begin until we know, definitively, what it is that we are trying to rebuild. I submit to you, my friends, that Tuftcheek Longvision has no answer to that question. At one time, perhaps Sharpeye Skygazer had an answer, but his personal ambition soon overwhelmed those feelings until on the day that our race faced a second annihilation in the form of ATRV the only answer that Sharpeye Skygazer could offer was: /I/ am Demaria!” The last is accompanied by a healthy thump of his fist against the podium. A pair of enforcers separate from the crowd just as Volgavian turns away from the stricken Demarian. The Demaria First Party goons close on the Vollistan, their snouts turned down into sneers of outrage. "What have you done to this Demarian, Vollistan?" The lead enforcer chuffs, poking a finger at Volgavian. "Uh." Rukais looks at Swiftfoot for a moment before nodding, "Thanks!" Aadzrian frowns a little more heavily as the speech continues, the Timonae looking up at Stars with something like worried doubt. He doesn't say anything, though, folding his arms over his chest. Volgavian blinks at the enforcers, looking rather confused a moment, before letting out an, "Oh. Is misunderstanding. Demarian is hurt, really, really hurt. Can help him out?" "You've done enough, Vollistan!" The lead goon shouts, roughly trying to take hold of Volgavian and shove him away from the hurt Demarian. He even sticks his foot into the shove, trying to send the off-worlder to the ground. As the drama unfolds, Stars nudges Swiftfoot with one of those claws... and disengages his arm, offering up in something close to a roar, letting it carry. "And you do, Sandwalker?" That soft, lazy accent is gone, words chosen carefully in Terran. "You have some new answer? Ah. Yes. I see it - " A wave of a claw - in the direction of those uniformed goons. "Private militias. Volunteer muscle. Devoted followers to your 'something more'." And he pads a step forward. And - he does not interfere, he seems to be taking that moment to wave a massive paw in the direction of the ensuing scuffle, highlighting it. "And that would be ... what, precisely? Thrashing aliens in the streets?" "Go Sandwalker! You thrash those aliens proper!" Rukais calls a moment after the Demarian fields his question. Swiftfoot, so far having been paying more attention to the speech than her surroundings, looks back at where Stars indicates. She seems faintly surprised at his roared challenge, to be sure. But once she looks, her ears flatten back, and her eyes narrow. That white-tipped tail of hers flicks from side to side, uncertain -- to make a bigger scene or to not make a bigger scene? Aha, there lies the rub. Aadzrian's reaction is a little less approving than Rukais. As soon as Stars brings the scuffle to his attention, the Timonae silently turns, shouldering and elbowing his way through the crowd towards it. It's probable at this distance he can't see -who- is fighting... not that that seems to dampen his enthusiasm. Bigger scene? Always. Lucius's hands fall to his sides as the situation becomes decidingly less pleasant. One might note he's a bit more alert than before. After falling, the hands lift to rest on his belt. Volgavian falls back, utterly confused as he collapses back onto the ground. "But, what?" he asks confusedly. "Now I am not suggesting that Tuftcheek Longvision follows in the Imperator's footsteps. No, whereas Skygazer was a tyrant Longvision is a pragmatist. His rule is that which did not harm us yesterday cannot haunt us tomorrow. The status quo is the highest ideal. *Complacency* is our highest virtue. There is nothing wrong with looking to tradition to guide us, but our link to tradition..." The Senator trails off as Stars speaks up, a look of supreme distaste levelled at the big Demarian. But just as soon as the look is there it's gone, and he's once again addressing the crowd. "My comrade, Lord Windracer, has every right to speak his mind as do you all-“ He never gets the chance to finish. As things escalate near the stricken Demarian more enforcers move to join in. A pair step in front of Aadzrian while the two that attacked Volgavian turn to the pile of rags. They start to lift them up, revealing the Demarian beneath. Less than a second later, as an explosion rocks the street, it becomes clear that their rough treatment saved Volgavian's life. The figure and his rags are vaporized by the explosion while the two enforers absorb most of the shrapnel that kills them instantly. A concussion wave tears through the crowd and shatters the windows of nearby buildings. Most people tend to recoil in shock and fear in this kind of situation and Rukais, blown off his feet by the shockwave, is no different initially, he cries out in surprise and lands on a soft pillow of Demarian. A second later he's up on his feet with an adrenaline rush, "OH MY GOD! THAT WAS A SHITTING EXPLOSION! YES /MATE/! FUCK A FUCKING DUCK IN THE ARSE, HOLY FUCKING /BALLS/!?" "Wha-" Aadzrian is knocked off his feet by the concussion wave, sprawling gracelessly backwards on the pavement. He blinks a little bemusedly up at the sky, more stunned than injured, and before long is pushing himself up to his feet. "Whoah... Any-body hurt!" he yells, looking all around. "Oh shit." Lucius says as he attempts to duck behind one of the low police barriers - too late! He and several officers around him are knocked right off of their feet. A few moments later he's up, his uniform having absorbed any scrapage handily. He does a quick look around. Volgavian, already having been knocked off his feet, is mostly fine. He's just staring, stunned. And then starts to babble in Volspak, "Oh Volir, Oh Volir, Oh Volir, Oh Volir." There are advantages to being a veteran - and disadvantages to being Demarian when an explosion goes off nearby. Deafened immediately, blown to the side by the blast - Stars lands heavily, but on knees and paws, controlling the fall to end up at least /somewhat/ ready to do /something/ - not that he's anything more than disoriented, already shaking his head, teeth bared. Oddly - at the moment? He's watching the Senator. Swiftfoot is, unfortunately, the soft pillow of Demarian that Rukais lands on, at least in part, also having been knocked aside though she too is able to at least control the fall somewhat. "Get OFF my TAIL," she levels at Ruk in a very -loud- snarl - could be deafness, could be frustration - before she starts to pull herself to her feet. "And be quiet." She looks first for Stars, of course, and then for the Senator. Maybe Lucius is just lucky, and suffered from the very curious combat phenomenon called 'auditory dimishment', because his ears don't ring at all. All at once his hands drop down to his holster and he grips the butt of his handgun, though he doesn't unholster it yet. "Sir, can I do anything? This crowd is going to go fucking nuts." He yells in question and statement to the officer next to him. Cathal and Tiana are the first on the scene! But as neither are doctors, policemen, reporters or anyone else who might conceivably want to be there, it's less than miraculous. They seem to have just come running in the direction of the explosion, Cathal's vast bulk skidding to a stop at the sight of the unfolding chaos. "Son of a -bitch-!" He calls hoarsely, reaching towards a weapon he's no longer carrying. "WHAT?" Rukais shouts back to Swiftfoot, looking confused, "I'M ALRIGHT, YEAH, THANKS FOR YOUR CUSHIONY BODY, I HOPE IT WAS GOOD FOR YOU TOO, BABE!" apparently, the pilot isn't just shouting because he's exited. A trail of blood is poking out of his right ear. Is he bothered? Does he even notice? I don't know, and I'm his player! What happens on stage is no different than what happens in the crowd. The Senators and their bodyguards are all knocked down by the bomb's blastwave. However, the bomb appears to have had a much worse bark than bite. The two dead enforcers were thrown a good distance from the body of the vagrant, and the building he rested against is badly damaged, but they seem to be the only fatalities and major injuries in evidence. At the stage the first to rise is Senator Firebrow Lightseeker, a dazed look on his features. Unfortunately, this also makes him a target. In the time between stun and panic following the blast a brutish but almost lyrical caterwauling issues from the tree line. It is a primal, savage sound that while unintelligible is unmistakeably a warcry. A dozen lanky Demarians dressed in sand colored robes dark out from the foliage, the cry on their lips. Despite their primitive dress they are well armed, each carrying a high powered rifle and an assortment of grenades. One of these is thrown at the stage. For Senator Lightseeker this is the end of him as another explosion shatters the stage, but Senator Sandwalker is saved as his bodyguards pile onto him. This second blast is the signal for the crowd to panic, and the Demarians begin to flee. Tiana skids to a halt -just- behind Cathal, the MArtian barely making a stop before she crashes into the large man, "What the -HELL-." She's shocked, really, evidently never have expected -anything- like this to ever happen on Demaria, "Dear Lady! Should I run to try and find some medics, you think?" She gives an uncertain glance between Cathal, and further down Sanctuary Avenue. As the attackers come stalking out of the trees, Volgavian finally gets to his feet, trying to back away. "Oh no," he murmurs. "No, no." Even as he backs away, he fixes his sight on the first of the aggressors. "No hurting, please," he whispers. Aadzrian looks around quickly- taking in the state of the dead enforcers with a glance. His hand reaches over his back, searching for a weapon that... isn't there. The Timonae softly curses in his native language as it dawns on him that none of the weapons he'd usually be toting are in evidence. So instead of fleeing like a sensible person, he looks around again and... runs right for Stars checks back - Swiftfoot is /whole/. And then - he snarls out, yes, in Demarian - it carries. "Watch it, pretty!" And he /moves/, faster than something his size should, the staff slung across his back coming into heavy paws, the tips crackling with ozone as he ducks for the second explosion, then bounds, left, right, edge of stage, on. "Get the civilians /back/." Who he's ordering? Who knows? But it /is/ an order, a roar in his native tongue, cutting over the confusion. Caught in the crossfire of riot and panic is, unsurprisingly, one Mika Tachyon; where and when she surfaced on the scene is anyone's guess, but there she is scrabbling on hands and knees for desperate purchase, fighting to get back to her feet lest she be trampled underfoot. Red scarftails snap when the privateer whips her head this way and that, gloved hand moving immediately to her pistol while she plunges through the crowd for the stage and, ultimately, Stars. Cathal looks over his shoulder, down at the smaller woman, "Might be a good idea. You got a gun on you? 'Cause them Demarians look like trouble." "HEY I'M GONNA SHOOT ONE OF THEM GUYS, THAT COOL?!" Rukais fields across Swiftfoot in an effort to shift any responsibility for his own actions, soon after the other Demarians start lobbing grenades, "I WANT ONE OF THEIR FUCKING 'NADES." His pistol is drawn and, running for whatever cover is available. Shots are fired, if the area is clear enough. "Get DOWN, human," Swiftfoot growls at Rukais. "Just find somewhere to hide." Her ears are flattened back, and her tail flicks from side to side -- purposefully this time. With that said, she's up on the stage as well, crouching at Stars' feet, a previously-concealed stun pistol in one forepaw. Old habits, apparently, really do die hard. "I don't... but... I could run back real quick, grab the guns, then dash for the medics?" Tia says uncertainly, the woman visibly on edge. The Militia MP that Lucius was speaking to draws his weapon and starts to turn to Lucius to reply. He's cut short when a high caliber projectile buries into his chest, knocking him back flat. Half of the attacking Demarians have slid into a natural crouch, firing their weapons at the crowd. They take aim at the few Militia MPs that are apparent, and strangely seem to be firing over the heads of the other Demarians. The other half leap up onto the stage, though they stop upon seeing Stars, which gives Twinstripe's bodyguards an opportunity to remove their charge. Swiftfoot equips Stun Gun. People opening fire on civilians? Lucius no longer cares what planet he's on. He ducks behind the concrete barrier to use it as a source of good cover. Then he hefts his 10mm handgun from his holster, cocks the slide and lifts up to take a shot at the robed men. He's not in a position of any command authority, but his training and instinct assure that he does this bare minimum. The crack of the large bore pistol round is still loud, even amongst the yells of the crowd. He makes sure to stay behind cover, being unarmoured, even if his shot accuracy suffers some. Volgavian ducks off to one side, trying his best to take cover, but still keeping an eye out on the invading Demarians, ready to try knocking one out again if he can. Aadzrian keeps running for Lucius' position, though thankfully he has the sense to approach from the side instead of the front so he's not between the military man and his enemies. Evidently bad at being a civilian, the Timonae crouches down and then abruptly kneels when he reaches the downed militia MP. He has at least the kindness to check and see if the man is still alive and can be helped by first aid before he reaches to 'borrow' his gun. Stars flashes teeth at the bunch - more challenge than 'smile', thank you very much. And, honestly? With a roar, the big former-merc /wades in/, that crackling staff an arcing, whirling dance, staying in among them to keep rifles from opening fire. If he has noticed the lack of demarians falling down among the crowd? it seems not to matter one whit. Spotting Swiftfoot for the first time, Mika flags an arm her way, and even gets as far as spitting out the first syllable of her name - before she is abruptly cut off by a stray bullet punching clean through the tail of her jacket. With a startled scream, she whirls around with gun ready to fire... only to find herself looking at a slumped and bloodied Lunite not quite as fortunate as she. Now incensed and well and truly frightened, urgency takes over. "/Swifty!/" calls one Jackal to another, pitching her voice over the din as best she can. She shoulders through the veritable mosh pit along the front of the stage, struggling to reach her former crewmate and defend her position. The next time Lucius pops up for a shot, he's more careful with it, though it's just as fast - snap shooting. He takes aim, both hands on the grip and gently squeezes the trigger at the biggest target he can find. As the bullet sails in that direction, the Sergeant Major's already back behind the concrete. He nods at Aadz/ Swiftfoot doesn't need to wade in after her Bondmate - no, she's better off back here providing fire support, all things considered. The stun pistol is leveled at the most immediate threat, a discharge of ozone detectable as it fires. She glances sidewise, checking the crowd, and catches sight of Mika - she doesn't -hear- her, no. "Mika!" she calls, a little too loudly, beckoning with one paw. Cathal tries to drag Tiana aside towards the cover of an overturned piece of sound equipment, watching the hostile Demarians with a scowl. "I don't think we got the time, this is gonna get messy and right soon. I might have to get in there the ol' fashioned way, but you're in no shape for a scruff-up. You're yer own boss, little lady, you do what you think best...but I always -did- want a chance to brawl with one of them big cats." He doesn't add his voice to the chaos just yet, content to watch for an opening for his own particular brand of action. "Hey Lucius!" Rukais says with a happy grin as he looks across in shock at the person he's taken cover with, "Wow, you're the marine and yet /I'm/ in armor! Get that irony in you, in you like a FIST!" he snorts, "YOU KNOW WHAT?" he shouts across, "I came out for a bagel! HAHA, AND WHERE IS MY BAAAGEEEELLLL!?" that, apparently, was also his battle-cry as he leans up and takes a shot at one of the Demarians that Lucius is working on. It might not instill much fear into his enemies, but perhaps he's hoping they might get embarrassed and just bugger off. Tiana takes one moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, "Jus' don't bloody go gettin' killed. Dear sweet Lady don' get killed." She mutters to herself, then quick as she can darts for cover. Right now, she's useless with that broken collarbone. Behind his cover, Volgavian crouches, staring out at the crowd with a frown. He's no combatant, but perhaps there are some things he can do. Silently, a flock of black birds flies down to the stage, flapping their wings before the eyes of the attackers up there, blocking their view, and hopefully their aim. Aadzrian sighs a little and closes the downed man's eyes, a brief kindly gesture before he gets down to business. Readying the shamelessly purloined gun, he joins Lucius in laying down suppressing fire on the Demarians on the ground. "This is not the kind of support I was planning on giving," the Timonae grumbles to himself in his native language, though he seems mostly calm by now- settled, with the concentration of someone who's more at home on the battlefield than anywhere else. As Stars attacks three of the fighters flip their rifles up, holding them like spears. They contain the big Demarian effectively, but are kept sufficiently on defense. The other three fan out on the stage, keeping low so as to present smaller profiles. The butts of their rifles find the faces of a few remaining bodyguards, knocking them senseless before they're hauled up. Two things convince the fighters on the stage that it's time to go. Swifty's stun blast hits one of Stars' combatants, eliciting a yelp that sends him to the stage. The cloud of black birds doesn't help either, the robed Demarians crying out in terror as if at a primitive omen. They abandon the fight, dragging off the bodyguards and trying to rescue their comrade without incurring the wrath of the big Windracer. Lucius' shot is rewarded by a scream from one of the crouching Demarians on the ground. He falls over, clutching at his shoulder. Three of the others aim their rifles towards the makeshift cover where Aadzrian, Lucius and Rukais are holed up, sending suppressive rounds over their heads. Two of their number get up and fan out towards the front of the stage. One strikes the face of a pretty Martian INN news anchor who had valiantly stayed behind to cover the battle. They try to stay away from the oncoming off-worlders, including Mika. The fighters seem to want to keep this short so that they can bear away their hostages. "If you don't shut up, Jimmy," Lucius replies with a sneer to the Lunite, "I'll fucking throw YOU over the barrier!" He pops up again, continuing his routine. The bulky 10mm casing flies right through the air and with a spectacular arc, above the neck guard of Rukais's flak jacket and onto his bare neck skin. Bullets spray over his head, the supersonic cracks not even causing him to wince. Lucky doesn't seem to notice either things, but continues to fight anyways. the Windracer focuses on one, trying to fight through him in the direction of those few retreating with bodyguards from the stage. Another roar follows them - a challenge, in no uncertain terms. But for now? Yes, he's contained, though it does take those two to do so - and the massive male moves like liquid lightning, veritibly dancing between weapon strikes. One hit to his hip has him snarling - but .. it's not /quite/ slowing him down. Not yet. It just.. adds a bit of a limp, for now. Up and alley-oop onto the stage goes Mika, pale-faced and frantic - but not yet firing her weapon. No, that is priority number two after she's crouched to scoop up the fallen video recorder and angle it toward her face. "Wot's yer face, Orion Arm, this's Mika Tachyon reportin'," she announces into it with a feisty grin. "We're li-i-i-iive from D'maria. Wanna see a bloke get shot?" Hamming it up like nobody's business, or perhaps simply keeping good humor in a desperate situation, she shoulders the device to film herself firing awkwardly at the back of the closest hostage-dragger. Swiftfoot shifts her aim coolly as her first target falls, this time drawing a bead on one of the hostage-draggers herself before she fires a second time. Priorities, priorities. "Did you say something?" she asks of Mika, still speaking way too loudly to someone that happens to be right next to her. Video camera? The Demarian female doesn't seem to have noticed. Cathal breaks forward in a short sprint, sliding in to join the trio of Aadzrian, Rukais and Lucius behind their cover, narrowly avoiding a spray of stray bullets. Unarmed and undertrained, it's unsure what help he's planning to offer, but you've got to like his hustle. "Oi, you lot! Spare gun, spare gun? Energy pistol or somethin' bigger with bull- Aadzrian? How the fuck do I always run into you in the weirdest places? I know -you've- got a spare gun on ya." "Noooooooooo!!!" Rukais shouts, in slow motion, as he watches the reporter he was distracted by get smacked in the face, "NOT THE FACE! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU ALL!!!" he cries to the heavens dramatically for a moment, before the a trickle of burning suddenly registers at the back of his neck. "OH GOD! I'VE BEEN SHOT! IN THE NECK? AAAAAARRGH!" he shouts, standing and running out of cover in what seems to be circles, arms flailing about the back of his head trying to feel for the gun wound that isn't there, "I'M HIT! THEY GOT ME! I'M DYING! THIS IS THE END! FUCK ME I'M PROBABLY GOING TO HELL AREN'T I? WHY? DRAEEEEEEE?!?!" he collapses on the ground behind Lucius. If he /doesn't/ get shot, that is. Tiana can only stare at Rukais for a moment, eyes wide and shocked at his erratic behaviour, "Dear Lady... don't make me regret this." Closing her eyes tightly, she darts towards Rukais, keeping low to the ground. Well, if he doesn't make a fuss? She'll -try- and drag him back with her to her previous spot of cover. Volgavian is crouched behind a wall, watching as his illusory birds sweep down toward whatever attackers remain, beating their wings wildly. Slowly, he starts trying to creep through, closer to where Aadzrian and the other people who might possibly be able to protect are. "Hey," he whispers quietly as he approaches. "No spare gun," Aadzrian says tersely to Cathal, ducking under cover while the suppressing fire arcs overhead. "Is a polity-cal rally, why would I bring guns?" And then he rolls right out of cover for a better shot, trying to help put down what's left of the ground forces. His hypocrisy is quite clearly displayed when a bullet whizzes by, and rips across the side of his personally tailored and visibly expensive suit- displaying flak armor underneath. It seems that the Timonae may just be -that- paranoid. "Shit, my jacket!" And he's rolling back to safety. "If you no have a weapon STAY TE FUCK DOWN!" One of the fighters on the stage with Stars abandons his defensive posture and launches into a flurry of savage offense born of desperation. He's not trying to defeat the big Demarian, just force him back so that all of the fighters on the stage can safely disengage and retreat to the protective cover of the forest. Retreat seems to be the order of the day all along the fighter's line. They withdraw swiftly and carefully, melting into the lengthening shadows as night begins to descend on Demaria. All that is, except for one. Mika is close enough that her shots are true, burying into the back of one of the fighters who crumples to the ground atop his would-be hostage. At last, the sound of sirens can be heard as heavy Demarian Militia troop carriers full of armored marines and ambulances begin to arrive on the scene. Stars twists - it pushes him back - but then one good /poke/ with that staff... and the smell of singed fur... and the last of the combatants facing him drops to the stage in a lump of stunned felinoid. Breathing a bit heavily, the windracer thumps that staff into the stage.. and leans on it. Shaking his head, once, twice, he turns to look behind him... and then out to the crowd as the militia arrives. And, frankly? He simply looks - sad. Drinking in the sight, for a moment. Swiftfoot's question is answered with a whooping victory cry from Mika, who makes a great show of blowing smoke that isn't there from the business end of her sidearm. Rukais's antics are lost her her, blending in with the mass confusion spewing all around them; and even if they weren't, her true purpose for seizing the camera in the first place becomes apparent. Ducking her head to quickly dart across the stage and toward the dead terrorist, she fumbles with the device's controls, sweeping it up and down the length of his corpse. "Take a good long look, Orion Arm," narrates the rogue to the feed's audience, zooming in awkwardly. The image blurs for a second on the viewfinder, but auto-resolves to compensate her amateurish handling a second or so later. His face, his apparel, everything about him, she captures on film. "Thaaaaat's one o' th' muckers shootin' Fuzztown up like a bloody sterlin'-bag o' metzy. Mmm-mmm-mmm. Got anythin' on ye, mate? Ident?" With her free hand, she starts rifling through his belongings. The birds disappear as swiftly and silently as they first arrived, and Volgavian leans back on his hands. "What is going on?" he asks, looking rather uncertain about, well, everything. "Urawhothefuckistouchingme?" Rukais manages, looking up at Tiana for a moment before his death throes are interrupted. "Hey there." he says, giving her a confident smile, "Did I actually die?" he winks up to her. Lucius fires a final round at the retreating enemy, though at this point they might be out of range. He breathes deep a few times, now that the main shooting - well, the shooting at him is done. After he's done bleeding off a bit of adrenalin, he pulls his mag out of his weapon and checks the ammunition, deciding to replace it with a full one, and then safes his weapon back into his holster. Then he heads for Mika's location. "He's one of mine. My charges, anyways, Republic citizen." Whether or not he notices the camera, the Special Forces soldier doesn't seem to care. He kneels down to do a quick check. "She's stable enough to take to the hospital." He picks her up in a fireman's carry and moves towards the ambulance to cart her away. Swiftfoot lowers her weapon and fairly bounds across the stage to Stars, baring teeth in a snarl as the last of the attackers retreat - a futile gesture, but hey, she's allowed. She looks him over quickly, whiskers twitching. A brief pat is laid on his shoulder before she looks over to Mika. "What in Demarr's name arre you -doing-, woman?" she asks, again, a little too loudly. Aadzrian sighs tiredly as the fighting ends, returning his gun to the body of the man he'd taken it from. "Ah, geez," he mumbles, climbing to his feet again. The Timonae whips off his torn jacket and ties it around his waist, unbuttoning the suit's vest so he can whisk off the shirt underneath. Leaving any serious work to the actual paramedics in the ambulance, he goes about shredding the shirt with his boot knife and stanching the bleeding of minor wounds with the silk. "Everywhere I go. Bang, bang, bang..." Tiana reluctantly lets go of what of Rukais' shirt she'd gotten hold of, a blink being offered initially to the man's reaction, "Hi there." She shakes her head lightly, "No, ya ain't died. But... are ya hurt? I got some painkillers if ya need some." Jaswinder is, it would seem, the last crow to arrive at the dead donkey this evening. And so the wanderer does what crows do in such situations - a lot of dodging and attempts at hovering, looking for an opening to finding out what the hell happened. Volgavian blinks a few times at Aadzrian. "Remind not to follow around too much," he says slowly to Aadzrian. "Or at least not stand too close, if that is the case." "Painkillers probably won't do much good, I got the best type anyway!" Rukais replies with a smile, angling himself into Tiana somewhat as he mimes smoking on what's probably in his mind a spliff. "Could always use a friend, though, wot wot?" he grins again. "Wel, I exagy-rate. A little," Aadzrian clarifies, trudging through the crowd. "You hurt? Need little bit of help?" Cathal straightens from cover, looking around at the scene. Largely useless in the situation, he hauls himself up on stage where he sees the familiar forms of Swiftfoot and Stars. "...shit, shoulda figured you two would be here." He eyes Mika more warily. Tiana blinks again, then kneels down to let Ruk lean against her without pushing her over. She's careful to keep her injured side from being put under pressure though, "Oh.. ah see. Uh, well, I ain't opposed t'bein' ya friend." She gives an awkward pat to the Lunite's shoulder, head canting slightly, "What's yer name? M'Tiana-Marie Ryoleli." Stars doesn't bother with 'brief pats' - as Swiftfoot turns, he drags her in close, noses at her ear - and /then/ lets her go. And, as he slings that staff, powered down now - he starts to move off the stage, heading to check on those fallen, to call the militia over and direct them at the stunned attackers on the stage. Businesslike. Volgavian shakes his head at Aadzrian. "Am alright," he says, and truly he seems to be, just a few scratches. "But... the child in adult's body..." Up on the stage, Mika kneels beside the dead remains of a terrorist, shooting his prone figure not with her drawn pistol but with a video camera appropriated from a fallen reporter. She swivels its lens Swiftfoot's way rather abruptly; the finder swashes with color before the Starchaser's lithe, orange-furred person dominates the picture. "Tellin' th' worl' a li'l story," she hollers back. The lens twists and clicks as it extends, filling the feed entirely with Swifty's muzzle. Then it's swung away toward the hostage, toward the militiacats, toward the terrified New Alhirans. "Where's Silvereye? Where's Longtooth?" "Child in adult's body? Who you meaning?" Aadzrian doesn't seem to find many injuries that aren't serious in the crowd, and so he largely drifts for the stage as well- dark brows furrowing in confusion as he finally catches sight of Mika. "MIKA wat hel are you doing," the Timonae hollers. "Shut it off! How would you liking to find out your family member dead t'is way!" "I'm James Rukais!" says he, pulling himself up for a moment and shaking his head, a hand rises and wipes blood from his ear. He looks down at his own blood-smeared hand and blinks in shock. "Wow, I should... get my bagel. You're great, an' all, but I have a girlfriend already and she's pretty hot. Sorry." with that, he's already walking away from Tiana towards somewhere he can alleviate the munchies. "Wha?" Tia is /confused/ about how Ruk went from friend to -want to be your girlfriend-, "Uh, good? I'm married, why would ah want t'be anythin' more'n a friend?" Called after Ruk, she only finds more confusion with talk of bagels, "Hey! Hey... ya shouldn't jus' wander off like that if ya bleedin'!" She stands up, truly uncertain if she should go after the Lunite or not. "It was-," Volgavian starts to say, but the Timonae is dashing away before he can get an answer out. He shakes his head, and starts to follow. Cathal turns around, scanning the area from atop the stage to see where he could be of any use. It's like nobody needs a talentless street thug in the aftermath of a terrible tragedy. Okay, look - it's a good photo-op. There's the Windracer - pointing the militia commander in the direction of the two stunned on the stage - limping and with torn robe as he moves on to check on one being picked up by medical personnel, even sharing a few growled words of encouragement in Demarian. He works his way through the crowd in the direction of the frightened few that are unhurt, but remain - offering demarese, "You're safe now - can you walk? Yes? You should go home, I think." There is honest worry in him - perhaps a surprising thing. Rukais is gone after breaded food long before Tiana has a chance to decide on whether he's worth a chase or not. He doesn't even hear her, either, over the sound of him being deaf. Following Swiftfoot's concerned gaze, the camera zeroes in on that fabulous shot of Stars sowing goodwill with the militia, and the woman behind the lens acknowledges it with an affirming, "Ah. I'll see 'bout 'elpin' 'im. Are ye alright?" Again, Mika turns, rising to her full height and holstering her gun again while she surveys the dismal scene. After a moment, Aadzrian comes to her attention. She regards him with a flat frown and perhaps intentionally grants the entire Arm a front-row shot of her good hand snapping out to flip him off. "So... much... stress." Tia mutters to herself, hand raising to pinch the bridge of her nose again. Once she's done squinting, and her eyes have peeled open again, a scan of the crowd is initiated in search of Cathal. "In your booze-inspired wet dreams," Aadzrian howls back at Mika's flipping off, returning the gesture... probably unaware of the figure he's cutting. "Turn t'at shit off and do somet'ing useful, woman!" Another militia car pulls up, and from it steps the Battleclaw himself. Silvereye strides away from the line of militia soldiers seeing to the stressed and wounded, heading instead for the stage. Cathal spots Tiana himself, hopping down from the stage and waving to her. He tries to weave through the crowd towards her, grumbling. "I didn't get none of the action. Teach me not to bring my gun." "I'm fine," Swifty offers to Mika, nodding. Her ears are still back, but apparently she can -sort of- hear now. Once those two stunned Demarians are disarmed, the ginger female piles the weaponry up and drags one over to the other. She stands over the two, stun pistol again in paw as she waits for the militia cats to reach her -- a rather strange armed guard, to be sure, but an armed guard nonetheless. Volgavian shakes his head as he keeps close to Aadzrian, and points at the camera. An opague circle appears just before the lens, blocking any more video shooting. "Might be good time to turn that off," he says quietly. "The dead do not need to be disrespected like this." Mika sticks her tongue out at Aadz, but actually does so, perhaps obliging his ever-so-polite request. A final sweep around the disastrous scene, and a fleeting glimpse of the Battleclaw and his hovercar are offered to the viewers before she signs off. "Saw 't 'ere firs', ladies an' gents," the privateer reminds, "on wotever bloody channel yer watchin'." Lowering the camera, she strides across the stage, eyes tracking Stars in the crowd. Tiana appears no less confused as Cathal sidles up to her, her brow furrowed and her cheeks a bit flushed, "Y'can come back an' have a row wit' someone some other time." She mutters, stress translated into a mildly irritated tone, "M'just glad ya ain't dead, an' m'sure Miss Jest'll 'precciate it too." Her voice lowers to a quiet mutter, meant largely for herself, "Dear sweet Lady save me. One thing after another. So bloody much stress." The big ex-mercenary wraps up that conversation, resting a hand on furred shoulder for a moment before turning back, moving through the crowd in the direction of the stage. He reaches up to rub at his ear, shaking his head again - apparently his hearing's not quite up to snuff yet, either - but it's Swiftfoot's way he goes, as the bustle allows. As close to a direct line as he can manage. Cathal leans something like a comforting arm on Tiana's shoulders; its an awkward, unpracticed gesture, but he means his best. "S'alright, little lady, we'll get back to Tomin Kora in no time. I did just spot that Volgavian I was lookin' for, and if I can get him away from Aadzrian...not easy to get a man o' that age away from Aadzrian, mark you, we can get on to home." Silvereye glances towards Mika as she levels a holocamera at him, his tail twitching once before he looks away from her. "Longtooth." He calls to the big Demarian. "Talk to me." Volgavian watches a moment longer, before shaking his head. "Think... am going to go back to ship," he says, turning around and starting to walk away. "Goodnight, Volgavian." "Nigh, Gav," Aadzrian calls after him, rubbing his temples. "Whew. Crazy." The Timonae takes a deep breath, surveys the chaotic crowd, and then heads for Cathal and Tiana. Mika, Swifty, and Silvereye are on the stage. Stars is moving toward them. Cathal and Tiana are somewhere in the dwindling, militia-controlled crowd, and Aadzrian is joining them. Wait, what? A Vollistan? A freaking -Vollistan-? Tia's eyes widen slightly, and she clearly tenses at the name that's undeniably belonging to a Light Singer, "Volgavian?" Oh so barely contained panic has replaced the irritation, "W-what ya need from 'im?" The questions are delivered tersely, her good hand reaching over to try and grab a tight hold on Cathal's arm. Mika intecepts Windracer and Paintedheart there on the stage, her freckled face twisted into a rueful frown. She doesn't say anything, just stands there watching the giant hulk of a would-be senator approach, the switched-off camera hanging lankly in her grip. Cathal's eyebrows climb higher than the ratings of whatever news program's camera Mika just hijacked. He looks down at the woman trying to cut off circulation to his arm, "...er, or I could come back and catch him later?" He glances up as Aadzrian nears, grunting. "Trouble really does follow you, son." Swiftfoot turns over both the pair of stunned Demarians and the pile weapons they were carrying to approaching militiacats, giving a nod before she turns and pads toward the growing gathering on the stage. "Hrrrrrr. Silverreye, this wasn't quite what I had in mind when I said I'd like to come out to the rrally," she admits, her ears laying back. The attempted jest falls utterly flat, unfortunately. The Windracer offers a heavy paw to Swiftfoot - giving Mika a flick of the tail, a tilt of his head - even a friendly flash of fang. But it's silvereye that gets /words/, in Terran - likely polite, for Mika's sake. "Sandwalkerr was being divisive - I'd no idea he'd gone to having his own brute squad." A chuff - clearly displeased. "But a rrobed man exploded, there - " His free paw waves in the direction of the once-explosion - "And then a dozen or so came from the trrees. I believe the senatorr escaped, but he lost severral guarrds who werre taken - poorr fools. Rrifles and grrenades." Tiana nods quickly at Cathal, then reconsiders, appearing uncertain. Her demeanour suggest she's afraid of Vollistans for a -reason-, at least, as opposed to simple Martian Xenophobia, "I... I .. ya shouldn't have t'delay jus' cause ah me.." Her voice has fallen to a meekly quiet tone, eyes wandering to the ground first, then up to Aadzrian at his approach. Silvereye nods to Stars, following where the big Demarian indicates. "Sandwalker is being treated for minor injuries along with a lot of others." The Battleclaw replies. "But they don't think there are that many fatalities. Strange." His tone is subdued. He walks towards the stunned fighters, kneeling beside them. "Any insight on these ones?" He asks, looking up at anyone who will answer. "Hey, te trouble pro-babble got here before I did," Aadzrian informs Cathal with a toothy but slightly weak grin, adjusting the flak he wears in lieu of a shirt anymore. "Hn. T'ink I got nicked. Ah, wel... Anyway, you guys okay?" Cathal pats his gut reassuringly, "Somehow they missed this big target I call a body, and Tiana seems okay, if a little shook up. We should probably get back to Tomin Kora. We got delayed on Hancock, so Rillitan is probably looking for his woman. He'll be thinkin' she's run off with me." He shoots one of his hideous winks down at Tiana. "Who could blame ya, honest?" "I got some stuff on cam'ra," Mika notes, waving said contraption Silvereye's way. "Be all over th' bloody matrix by t'morrow, watch. Dunno wot 'appened ta th' poor telly girl, though. Bollocks, but /she/ got popped." Wincing, she sends an appaising sidelong look Stars's way. "Longtooth, mate. Ye 'urt?" "I'd sure as 'ell blame me f'leavin' Rill f'you, Cathy." Tia quips back, though half-heartedly, her eyes again shut tightly, "Swear t'Lady's testin' me. Don't know why, but she's testin' me." "Rrobes and rrifles," Swiftfoot says, shrugging at Silvereye. "Grrenades. Otherr than that, therre was just that weirrd sorrt of warr crry they gave when they came out of the forrest." She shakes her head, putting a paw to one ear, and sighs, slipping an arm around her Bondmate. "You alright, love?" she asks him, switching off to Demarese. "Okay. I better catshed a shuttle back to Junkyard my-self," Aadzrian sighs, looking faintly harried. "We gonna take Fox back down to Tomin Kora soon, no wanna miss t'at. I heared you guys need to talk to me- pro-babble seed you on TK? Un-less is urgent and import-tant?" "I don't have time to be hurrt." Stars flashes a wink - though he /is/ favoring that hip. "I /am/ awful tirred of getting hit arround the waist, though. Think we can starrt convincing them to aim higherr?" He pauses, then looks to Silver - "one's mine. One's Swiftfoot's. I think. I frrankly was a bit busy to notice who was getting shot, and who wasn't - and who was doing the shooting. Considerr them a prresent. I'll give you mine gladly - I don't like feeding strrays." And.. oddly enough, he leans on his bondmate, there. "Yeah. I will be." He chuffs at Silver - "So. What did I just get in the middle of, here?" Ace arrives late to the rally/chaos, frowning as she takes in the scene, standing tall and heading straight for the stage without so much as a by-your-leave. Silvereye nods to Mika as he straightens, holding out a hand. "Good work, mind if I take that? I've got a lot of techheads who would love to look it over." He turns back to Stars, and then shrugs. "No idea. This caught us by as much surprise as I imagine it did you. But..." He glances down at the figures. "That's tribal dress. But it's not like that'd be hard to fake." The Battleclaw looks at the three. "Now enough of this, if you need medical attention go get it." "Why would we need ta- right! Aw shit, how'd I forget? It's nothin' big, but it'll only take a second." The hirsute Lunite reaches into an inside jacket of his enormous jacket, producing a slim package wrapped in black plastic. He holds it out to his Timonae companion. "Gift from Jest. What'd she say...oh aye, it made her think of ya, and miss the ol' times." He grins, shrugging. "Sorta sweet, ain't it?" He watches Ace pass on her way towards the stage, adding quietly, "I'll drop in on you guys when we're all back on Tomin Kora." Plodding back from the hospital, where the ambulance led him close to an hour ago, Lucius's uniform is covered in blood. The only part which is spotless is his tan beret. He looks exasperated, and has one hand on the butt of his handgun, which is holstered. He immediately heads towards Silver. Aadzrian blinks wide-eyed at Cathal, seeming a little doubtful about that and yet hopeful. "Huh. Really?" he says quietly, tucking the package into a pocket of the suit jacket tied around his waist. "...T'ank you, t'en. Al righ', see you t'en. ...I figure I pro-babble got some explaining to do." A grin and a wave, and he turns to follow Ace. Tiana releases her grip on Cathal's arm slightly, a heaving breath taken in to try and bring herself down to that calm spot where she wouldn't start to feel ill from the stress, "She's tryin' t'test me, ain't she, Cathy. Lady's tryin' t'test m'faith in 'er." Mika turns the camera over to Silvereye's possession without protest, shrugging. "I shot th' one wot's on th' 'olodisc," she appends to Stars's explanation, casting a look back at the wrecked and gruesome stage. "There anythin' wot I can do, mate? This's... this sounds all /official,/ an' wotnot, but um..." Coat flowing behind her, she stalks onto the stage, heading straight for Swifty and Stars, "Always I am late to the party and miss all of the fun." Her words are light but her dark eyes are full of concern, assessing her two tovarisches for any signs of injury, "You are both unhurt?" Mika unequips "Shotcaller" Custom 1311 Automatic Pistol. Swiftfoot rubs behind one ear, then noses Stars. "Um. So. I hope me being arrmed doesn't, you know, scrrew anything up forr you," she murmurs to him, giving a quiet chuff. "At least it was just a stunnerr..." She shrugs at Silvereye. "Earrs'rre rringing a bit still, but it'll pass. It's just because of the blast." A greeting flick of her tail and a nod go to Ace. "Prrobably have a headache, but we got off easy. Might have a sorre spot on my tail laterr wherre that human landed on it." A shrug punctuates the comment. "You'rre my bodyguarrd, Prretty - you'rre /supposed/ to be gorrgeous and dangerrous - I can explain you away." Stars flashes teeth, a flick of tail in greeting to Ace - "They keep hitting my hip. It's like therre's a /sign/ on the damn thing - 'hey, this is industrrial plastic - poke it a lot! It feels /grreat!/" He /snorts/. "I want to know about Sandwalkerr's bullies. You want to do something official - " It's a look between Mika and Ace, "You starrt asking - " A pause. "Silverr - let's assume those /werre/ Trribals. What arre the chances they'd want to rrun off with Sandwalkerr bad enough they'd brrave Sanctuarry Avenue forr it?" Aadzrian grunts as he climbs up onto the stage, grimacing for some reason, but then coming up towards the knot of familiar faces. He doesn't say anything, just taking up space for now. Silvereye shrugs at Stars. "I don't know. But fortunately we've got two of them alive so we can start answering some of those questions...As soon as they wake up." He nods to Ace as she arrives but directs his words to Mika. "I don't have a plan of action, yet. We're still putting this together and making sure that the city is secure. But we will get to the bottom of this...keep your ear to the sand." Lucius stops near Silvereye, but pauses there and it appears he will wait until everyone else is finished their business with the head of the Demarian Militia. For now, the Sergeant Major merely continues to scan the area. Cathal tries to guide Tiana away, back towards the spaceport. "I ain't a believer in that sort of business, generally speakin'. Element'ry school teachers test us, and I can't see my way through to believing in a god that bent on silliness. C'mon, we'll get ya out of here." Tiana isn't hard to leave, the Martian no longer wishing to be near where the chaos had occured, "She brought Rill back from t'dead f'me, Cathy. How c'n I -not- believe in 'er." Her tone suggests she's -entirely- serious on this point, "She loves us, me an' Rill, but she has t'be sure we love 'er back." Oh yes, she believes this to be true. "Ear t' th' sand. /Bollocks,/" Mika snorts, rolling her eyes and chuckling mirthlessly, green-eyed gaze finding Ace and acknowledging her with an upward nod. "I betcha yer cagey li'l ladycat 'as th' jolly ol' scoop, or uh, somethin' wot looks like a scoop. Why do they call 't a 'scoop,' anyway? Wot's it a scoop of? Does information measured in bloody scoops? 'A scoop o' information.' Christ, I'm goin' 'ave a piss. There a port-o-pisser 'roun'-- ah, there we go. I 'ope there's no dead bodies in there. Nothin' ruins a jolly good piss like some blinkin' maggot-menu." And so it goes, all the way to the port-o-potty. Ace offers a welcoming embrace to Swifty then and a more careful one to Stars, "Retiring to the quiet life of politics, da?" she asks sarcastically, stepping back and giving a nod to Silvereye, "You are alright?" she asks him, glancing back at Aadzrian as he joins them, frowning as he grimaces, "Are you hurt?" "I got shot," Aadzrian confesses, holding two fingers just a hair apart, "A little. No pro-blem, righ'? Figures, te one time I go some-where wit'out my guns." He offers Ace a lopsided grin. "Hrrr," Swiftfoot says, nodding to Stars. "Point. Turrns out it was a good thing anyway..." She shakes her head, her snout wrinkling a bit. But hey, that's all gone once Ace hugs her, the fuzzy orange Demarian returning the hug eagerly. "You missed the fun," she offers wryly. "Things blew up. People got shot. That sorrt of thing." Stars hugs right back, nosing at Ace's hair before letting go. "He always gets hurrt, Ace. It's what he does." The big cat /is/ amused. Definitely. "He's going to spin this, Silverreye - but I think it's going to hurrt him, in the end. Depending." Silvereye just shakes his head after Mika for a moment before turning to Ace. "Arrived a little before you did." He replies to her. The Battleclaw steps forward, then turns to Stars. "Well see. But my only concern is the security of this colony, at the moment the politics are gonna take a back seat." He then smiles. "That can be up to you." Finally he turns to Lucius. "Sergeant Major. Sorry you had to get involved in this...We'll see that you're taken care of but right now you'd best notify your government that you're alright. I need to brief the President." "I'm fine, sir." Lucius answers. "Reporter is dead. Shock." He nods. "I'm sure the Republic will be amenable to helping you, but I definately understand if you need to keep this internal." "Just a little bit shot?" Ace frowns, "Have you had it tended to?" She turns back to the two big Demarians, "Was not certain it would be good for you if I attended the rally. Do not think I am held in such high regard here after New Luna, but next time, I will have your back." Category:Classic Political logs Category:Classic Demarian logs Category:Classic Demaria logs Category:DemArc The Noble Gambit